WHISKEY BLUES

The heat,
its the heat that called us to each other,
the warmth of familiar scent.
a lost lover's knowing touch.

we lay there,
looking at each other,
searching for meaning,
reason for this forbidden perfection.

A breeze breaks through,
goosebumps riddle her perfect skin,
as i trace her curves,
her pulsating beauty within my reach.

''This is the last time,"'
she says to herself,or maybe to me.
we lay there entangled,
hearts beating to the whiskey blues.

                                               kyalo.

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